


A slice of home

by kitlee625



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 01:50:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5398319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitlee625/pseuds/kitlee625
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>May and Coulson celebrate Thanksgiving at S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A slice of home

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Sarahastro for beta reading this. Initially I wrote this on my way back from my own Thanksgiving, but work, etc. made it a belated celebration of the holiday.

By the time Melinda May gets to the cafeteria, breakfast is already almost over. A few of the servers glare at her as interrupts them trying to shut down the service line to grab a bowl of cereal and some yogurt. May though ignores them and searches the room for an empty seat. Most of the other cadets have finished eating, but she spots Phil Coulson sitting alone in a corner.

“Hi May,” he says when she sits down. “You almost missed breakfast.”

“I know. I was waiting for someone in the gym to practice for our hand-to-hand combat exam tomorrow.” She gives him a pointed look, and he looks down.

“Sorry.” He doesn’t explain why he skipped out on their workout, just stares at his plate and pushes his uneaten eggs around silently.

“You okay?” she asks.

He nods unconvincingly, and she frowns. “Really?”

He sighs. “It’s stupid. It’s just -- Thanksgiving today.”

May looks at him, surprised. She hadn’t even registered that the holiday was coming up.

When he sees her look of confusion, Coulson looks embarrassed. He grabs his tray and stands. “I should get to class,” he says and hurries off.

*****

On Thursdays, May starts the day with flight training, so she doesn’t see Coulson again until lunch break. He has just finished Modern American History. Normally he loves the class and tells her all about what they are studying during lunch, but today he barely looks up when she joins him and Felix Blake.

“No turkey,” May comments.

“Why would there be turkey?” Blake asks. “Thursday is meatloaf day. Although I’m not sure this really qualifies as meatloaf.” He pokes the grayish brown lump on his tray.

May glances at Coulson, who is staring into space with a blank expression. She is not sure that he has even heard them talking. “It’s Thanksgiving today,” she explains.

Blake looks surprised. “Huh.” He pokes the meatloaf again. “I wish you hadn’t mentioned that. My mom always made a great Thanksgiving dinner, and now I’m stuck eating this crap. What about you, May? Miss your mom’s home cooking.”

May snorts. “My mom wasn’t exactly the happy homemaker type. My dad did the cooking, but a turkey dinner with all the trimmings wasn’t really his thing.”

She glances at Coulson, wonder what Thanksgiving was like in the Coulson family. He never says much about his family or his life before S.H.I.E.LD., but there must be something from his past to explain why he is so upset about Thanksgiving.

“At least we’re not away doing wilderness survival today,” Blake says as he finally gives up and chokes down the meatloaf. “I think that was over Thanksgiving last year, right Coulson?”

Coulson shrugs absently. “I don’t remember. I need to go to the library.” Even though his plate is nearly untouched, he gets up and leaves without another word. May stares after him, worried.

They don’t have any classes together Thursday afternoons either, but after class she goes by his room to check on him.

“Are you okay?” she asks when he opens the door.

“Yeah.” He gives her a forced smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’ve been acting like a zombie all day. Is this all about it being Thanksgiving?”

He sighs and gestures for her to come in. Inside, his room is dark and as usual cluttered with books, comic books, and photographs. She takes a seat at his desk, and he sits on the bed.

“I know it’s stupid and childish, but Thanksgiving used to be my favorite holiday.” His voice is wistful. “It was all about family and traditions. My dad and I would throw the football around and watch the Packers game on TV. Even after he died, my mom made sure that we always had a special day. She taught me how to cook, and I would help her make a big dinner for all our friends. But not anymore. Now I’m here at S.H.I.E.L.D., and I’m not there to help her. That’s the way it’s going to be from now on.”

He looks so guilty, and May reaches out and squeezes his shoulder. “Just because you’re at S.H.I.E.L.D. academy now doesn’t mean that won’t get to celebrate with her after you graduate.”

Coulson looks skeptical. “Did your mom make it for a lot of family Thanksgivings?” She shakes her head, and he sighs. “I guess that’s the life that we’ve both chosen. Our duty to S.H.I.E.L.D. will always come first.”

May wishes that she knew what to say to make him feel better, but she knows that he is right. S.H.I.E.L.D. will always take precedence over a normal family things like celebrating Thanksgiving.

*****

At dinner that night, the cafeteria does serve turkey and mashed potatoes in honor of Thanksgiving, but they are both so dried out as to be almost inedible. She looks for Coulson, wondering if this will cheer him up a little or only depress him further, but he skips the meal entirely. May wants to go by his room again to cheer him up after dinner, but she has no idea what to say, and so just goes back to her room to study.

It isn’t until later, when she is studying alone in her room, that she suddenly has an epiphany about what might make him feel better. After lights out, she climbs out her window and crawls along the ledge until she reaches his window. The lights are out, and she worries that he is already sound asleep. However, she only has to tap a few times before he wakes up and comes to the window.

“May? What are you doing?”

“Get dressed, and come with me.”

He is only wearing Captain America boxers, and at the mention of clothes, he blushes and disappears into the darkness of his room, reappearing a moment later wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. “Where are we going?”

“To celebrate Thanksgiving.”

He looks confused but climbs out the window and follows her in sliding down a drainpipe to land safely in some bushes outside of their dorm. May has spent hours cataloguing every security camera and guard station on campus, and she knows just how to avoid all of them to get to the cafeteria unseen.

While she picks the lock on the back door, Coulson leans against the wall, still puzzled as to what they are doing here.

“Are we here to steal dinner? Because I heard it was pretty bad,” he whispers.

“It was.” She falls silent, focusing on the task at hand. After a few moments, she feels the pins slide into place, and she opens the door. “I thought you could do better.”

“Me?”

“Well I don’t know how to cook a Thanksgiving dinner.”

Coulson looks at her like she is insane, but once inside the kitchen, he goes to the huge industrial refrigerator and freezer to survey the contents. By the way he is frowning, she can tell that he is about the pull the plug on her crazy plan. But then he goes to take a look in the pantry and emerges triumphantly carrying a large tin of pumpkin puree.

“I don’t think I can make a full dinner, but how do you feel about pumpkin pie?” he asks.

May plasters on a fake smile. Truthfully she finds the idea of a vegetable pie disgusting. It was always cold, bland, and squishy when her father tried to make it. But she is not about to dampen Coulson’s enthusiasm. “Love it,” she lies.

She hops onto the counter and watches while Coulson gets to work, humming to himself. He looks happier than he has all day as he cuts up butter into the flour, rolls out a pie crust, and arranges it into a pie pan. While it cooks, he assembles the filling of pumpkin puree, eggs, sugar, milk, and spices.

“So what were Thanksgivings like in your family?” he asks.

“Not great,” May admits. “My mom usually had to work, or she’d be called to work halfway through dinner, and she and my dad would fight. I don’t think we ever made it all the way to dessert without something going wrong.”

Coulson gives her a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. Besides, dinner was never any good anyway. My dad’s a good cook, but he doesn’t know how to cook American food. But for some reason, he would insist on making a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, and it was always terrible. I don’t really like that stuff.”

“Well my mom’s a great cook. Maybe someday after we graduate, you can come over for Thanksgiving, and we’ll change your mind. In the meantime, try this.” 

She is expecting him to hand the spoon to her, but instead he brings it right up to her mouth, and she licks some of the filling off it. It is better than she expected, sweet and spicy from the cinnamon.

“Mmm,” she says. “That’s really good.”

He beams. “Thanks. Family recipe.”

Once the crust is done baking in the oven, she helps him pour the pumpkin mixture into the shell. As it bakes, Coulson nervously checks the door.

“I’m surprised no one’s caught us yet,” he says.

“Security down here’s a joke.” May gestures to the corners of the room where security cameras are posted. “They aren’t even connected to anything. I don’t think S.H.I.E.L.D. academy cares much if people are down here.”

“But still, getting all the way down here and picking the lock on the door. I don’t think that’s something they teach all the future specialists here.”

She gives him a cryptic smile.

He shakes his head. “I can’t believe we’re in the same year. You run around this place like you own it, and I still feel like a newbie.”

“Everyone feels lost sometimes, Coulson.”

He look down at his feet. “Not like me. Half the time, I don’t even know why they recruited me. I mean, I wrote a paper. I’m not exactly a super spy.”

“You’re doing fine Coulson. Everyone thinks so.”

“Fine isn’t enough. I gave up everything to come here. My mom’s all alone now, so I can be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and make a difference.”

“You’re going to make a difference, Coulson. You’ll be a great agent because you’ve got this amazing drive and a great heart. That’s why Agent Fury chose you.”

He smiles. “Thanks, May, and thanks for doing all this.”

“I didn’t do anything. You did the cooking. It smells great.”

The timer goes off. “Hopefully it tastes okay.” He pulls it out of the oven and lets it cool for a few minutes before cutting two large pieces. He watches her take the first bite. “How is it?”

“It’s amazing,” she says, and it really is. “Best pumpkin pie I’ve ever had.”

He takes a small bite and closes his eyes, rolling it around his tongue contemplatively.

“What do you think?” May asks.

Then he swallows and smiles. “Tastes like home.”


End file.
